Gold-Tooth wasn’t actually his family name.

Years back, during his mercenary days, someone had rearranged his face thoroughly enough to shatter every tooth in his head. He’d had them replaced with gold, and then had the fortunate accident of catching the eye of one of the Windstill national ruler’s Grand Stewards, which landed him the position of rotating duty shift captain for the ruler’s guard. The name Gold-Tooth had stuck ever since.

The day after tomorrow was the birthday celebration of the Windstill national ruler’s eighty-eighth concubine.

Gold-Tooth was a very busy man.

He was directing slaves in the street with the posture of someone who had recently discovered that the universe had been arranged specifically for his benefit, pointing here and there, telling these lowlifes to move faster, get the meat and wine onto the carts, what were they doing standing around.

His responsibilities for this particular event covered only the secondary guests — the ones gathered outside the ruler’s residence rather than inside among the true nobility — but it was still a significant appointment. Securing it had cost him ten thousand gold coins paid to the Grand Steward, another ten thousand to the Grand Steward’s son, two Gold-rank treasures, and four virgin female slaves.

Large investments attracted large returns. Once word got out that Gold-Tooth had the contract, merchants materialized from every direction to flatter him, and old acquaintances who had never shown him particular warmth suddenly found themselves moved to express their appreciation through periodic gifts. Everyone wanted a piece.

The reason this particular concubine’s birthday mattered so much was a matter of public record in Greenvalley City. The ruler kept a great many concubines, but the eighty-eighth had a claim on his attention that made the others invisible by comparison. By status she should have ranked in the top five — below the first wife and two equal wives, but above everyone else. She didn’t want top five. She specifically wanted eighty-eight. It was her number. So the national ruler, in the interest of making her happy, had simply had concubines eighty-seven through whatever-came-after killed, and installed his beloved Zhiguang in the position she preferred.

That told you everything you needed to know about Zhiguang’s standing.

In Greenvalley City, only the ruler’s own birthday and his first wife’s birthday outranked the Zhiguang celebration in scale and ceremony. And the first wife only kept her position because she’d been personally presented by a domain emperor and came from one of Tianhua Domain’s great families — otherwise she’d have been quietly replaced years ago.

“Gold-Tooth! Gold-Tooth! Gold-Tooth—”

Gold-Tooth turned at the sound of his name and found a man in deer-hide pushing through the street toward him. Face swollen, recently beaten, dressed like a wilderness hunter. It took him a moment.

Keen-Eye Jinyun. They’d done contract work together years back — dangerous work, out near the Windstill Swamp. He hadn’t seen the man in the better part of a decade. Last he’d heard, Jinyun had taken a city gate posting over in Black Ridge. Clearly that had not ended well. The deer-hide and the bruised face told the whole story.

Under normal circumstances, Gold-Tooth wouldn’t have spared a second glance. But Keen-Eye Jinyun had been useful back in the day — good instincts, good head, a decent tactical mind. The unit’s intelligence officer, effectively. He’d also done Gold-Tooth a small favor once that might technically have saved his life, though Gold-Tooth had never dwelt on that part.

More to the point: a man in Gold-Tooth’s position needed a fallen old companion around occasionally. The contrast helped.

He arranged his expression into one of theatrical puzzlement and squinted. “You are…?”

Keen-Eye Jinyun, former gate-captain of Black Ridge City, was fully aware that this performance was a deliberate insult. He swallowed it.

“Gold-Tooth, congratulations on your promotion. A man of your standing must be too occupied to remember every face. It’s Jinyun — we ran collection contracts together near the swamp, years back. That Jinyun.”

Gold-Tooth smacked his forehead and executed a flawless imitation of a man suddenly remembering something delightful. “Of course! How could I forget — Keen-Eye Jinyun, our team’s deputy, a man of exceptional intelligence and perception, handled logistics, intelligence, planning — all of it, and brilliantly! I was just confused by the outfit, that’s all, my old brain’s going. You were posted to Black Ridge, weren’t you? What’s happened to you?”

“I, ah. I resigned.”

Resigned, Gold-Tooth thought, with internal contempt. More like was thrown out on his ear. But aloud he made a commiserating sound and reached out to feel the quality of the deer-hide with an expression of practiced sympathy. “A free man — nothing wrong with that. Honestly, look at me: I’m managing two hundred people’s food and drink for this event, running around from dawn to midnight, so busy I haven’t got time to hang myself properly. You’ve got the better deal — eating big meat, drinking good wine, answering to nobody. One of these days I’ll do the same, just walk away from all of this—”

“Gold-Tooth, you’ve done very well for yourself. An important posting in the national ruler’s household—”

“Oh, it’s nothing but stress. One wrong move and my head rolls. Every day I’m gambling with my neck.” Gold-Tooth was warming up now, hoping for another round of compliments and finding the silence on the other end of the conversation slightly insufficient. He’d have preferred Jinyun to simply keep going for three days.

“The national ruler’s business is naturally important—”

“You didn’t come here just to catch up,” Gold-Tooth said, not unkindly. “What do you need? You must be hungry — you just got into the city. Come on, I know a place. My treat, drinks all night, a proper reunion. You’re in Greenvalley now, you’ve got me, nothing to worry about. Whatever the trouble is, old brother Gold-Tooth handles it. Come on, finest entertainment house in the city, best wine, best company—” He said this at a volume the surrounding crowd could fully appreciate and felt the admiring eyes land on him like small suns.

Keen-Eye Jinyun pushed past the hospitality. “Actually, I’m here because a small merchant guild wants to attend Lady Zhiguang’s birthday celebration to present their respects. I was hoping you might be able to help arrange it. The guild would be very generous in expressing their gratitude.”

This was, objectively, not a complicated request. The ruler’s residence welcomed merchant tributes without much discrimination — it was essentially a matter of seating placement. A sufficiently generous merchant guild could even land inside, in the proper guest hall.

But the person making the request was Keen-Eye Jinyun, visibly destitute, and Gold-Tooth was not going to let that go to waste. He sucked air through his teeth and shook his head with an expression of pained reluctance. “Jinyun, brother, listen — you know I would never make things difficult for you, you’re family. But I have to be honest with you. This is genuinely complicated. I’m managing the outer arrangements, right, the outside guests — that’s my area. Getting someone a seat inside? Do you have any idea how many merchant guilds across this entire nation, not to mention outside it, are trying to get in? It’s a feeding frenzy. I’m not saying I won’t try — it’s just that the road there is very difficult, I’d have to go through channels that—”

Zero difficulty. He was going to draw this out as long as possible, get Jinyun begging on his knees, ideally with tears.

Keen-Eye Jinyun had figured this out approximately forty seconds ago and was quietly simmering.

“We would not dream of causing Gold-Tooth any difficulty.”

A new voice. Clear, unhurried, carrying the ease of someone who had never been inconvenienced in his life.

Gold-Tooth turned.

Walking toward them was a young man in silver armor, with the kind of face and bearing that made Gold-Tooth’s professional instincts sit up and take notice — the posture of a person who was not performing wealth or power but simply was it. Beside him, a sharp-eyed near-Sky-rank escort.

Gold-Tooth’s gaze dropped to the young man’s hand.

A ring. Sacred-rank, clearly — and clearly suppressing its own radiance, its glow muted by some deliberate technique. But the form was unmistakable. It was one of the Five Sacred Rings of Tianhua Domain: Yuehua, Rain-Flower. He knew exactly what he was looking at.

The Five Sacred Rings were a matched set: Galeforce, Windstill, Soaring, Cloud-Piercing, and Rain-Flower. The first two were held by the Galeforce and Windstill national rulers respectively, personally awarded by a domain emperor, Sacred high-grade, and incidentally the source of both nations’ names. The other three were slightly inferior but still Sacred-rank. Legend had it that assembling all five triggered some mysterious combined function. The national ruler considered his inability to ever collect the full set one of his great lifelong regrets.

The Windstill ruler had given the Rain-Flower ring to his younger brother, the Black Ridge lord, as reward for completing a domain emperor’s assignment — capturing a million slaves and mobilizing a three-hundred-thousand-man army. Or, depending on which version you believed, had surrendered it reluctantly because the brother wouldn’t stop asking for it.

And here it was, on the finger of a young man Gold-Tooth had never seen before.

Nobody ordinary owned a ring like that. Nobody ordinary who owned a ring like that walked around showing it in the open. Which meant this person was exactly as extraordinary as he appeared, and Gold-Tooth’s instincts had been right to fire.

His posture had already started adjusting before the thought finished forming.

“May I ask the young lord’s name?” Very different tone from the one he’d been using with Jinyun. Notably different.

“President of the Titan Merchant Guild,” Fengji supplied helpfully.

“Gold-Tooth,” Keen-Eye Jinyun offered from the other side. “Outer executive of the national ruler’s residence. Coordinating steward for Lady Zhiguang’s celebration.”

Yue Yang opened his mouth, ready to deploy the same tone Gold-Tooth had been using on Jinyun — a little mockery, a little twist of the knife, nothing too elaborate — but Gold-Tooth, who had not survived in the national ruler’s household by being slow, had already folded himself into a bow deep enough to bring his rear end level with his head.

“This humble one deserves death. I had no idea the Titan Lord was visiting in person. Please forgive this worthless one’s rudeness.”

Yue Yang paused.

Keen-Eye Jinyun, watching this happen, felt something he’d been waiting to feel for several minutes: relief, followed immediately by a helpless, grudging respect for how fast the man had moved.

The man was shameless to his core, and it almost worked in his favor.

“The matter of attending the celebration—?” Jinyun ventured.

“Handled.” Gold-Tooth straightened up and thumped his chest. “If the Titan Lord does not have a seat at the inner guest table, Gold-Tooth’s head is available as a footstool.” He scanned the surrounding street and noted several capable-looking mercenaries at intervals that formed what was clearly a loose protective perimeter, with the faint sense of Sky-rank presences layered underneath — concealed, but present. His read: significant noble lineage, major backing. He had made the right call.

After receiving a nod from Yue Yang, Fengji produced a monster core — Crimson Wolf King, Sky-rank tier one — and pressed it into Gold-Tooth’s hand. Gold-Tooth nearly did go to his knees.

He excused himself shortly after, moving at speed toward the ruler’s residence to begin arrangements.

Keen-Eye Jinyun watched him go, then turned to Yue Yang with genuine confusion on his face. “Why did it have to go through him specifically?”

Yue Yang smiled. “Chess. Sometimes patience. Sometimes you play an apparently useless piece — and then the useless piece becomes the one that sets everything else up.” He was already turning away. “You’ll see.”

He walked off without waiting for Jinyun to parse this. Fengji, still standing there, waited until Yue Yang’s back was fully turned and then drove his fist into the top of Jinyun’s head.

“What the—”

“What did I tell you?” Fengji said pleasantly. “No questions. No doubts. You execute, and then you execute again. Also—” He brightened. “I realize I haven’t properly welcomed you yet. I’ve been thinking about this actually. You’re new. I should be warm about it. So—” Another punch. “Welcome! Very glad you’re here!”

Keen-Eye Jinyun, flat on the ground, stared at the sky. “Who came up with this tradition? Who does this?”

Fengji kicked him. Cheerfully. “You don’t need to know who invented it. You just need to understand that whenever a new recruit shows up, you greet them exactly like this. Like I’m greeting you. You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to practice on. Now stop trying to block, that only makes this take longer—”

The welcome ceremony ran for some time.

Fengji, eventually, was winded enough to need a break.

“If another new recruit ever joins,” Keen-Eye Jinyun announced to the sky, face bloody, four limbs at various unhelpful angles, “I will personally beat them half to death.”

“Now that’s the spirit,” Fengji said, kicked him one more time for emphasis, and sat down to catch his breath. “The tradition must be carried on.”

“You’re still going?”

“I got beaten by a group of Sky-ranks for twenty solid minutes, and I suspect it wasn’t over when I left. I am owed. Accept your fate — I’ll do it in installments given that you’ll die otherwise. Multiple shorter sessions. I can be reasonable.”

“You recruited me specifically to take revenge on me, didn’t you.”

“…I’m not going to answer that.”